Come On
by nOnymOus
Summary: Regulus misses Sirius voice. or something like that. tiny slash, onesided.


My second HP fanfic. My first attempt at the pairing. So I think this calls for a….

Warning! Fanfic may contain OOC and klutzy writing, although do you do a klutzy fanfic?

I love you all for even bothering to open this.

Disclaimed.

--

The first thing he noticed was the silence.

It was never silent in Grimmauld. It was either Sirius fighting with their mother ("You worthless, asshole! Landing yourself in Gryffindor and making friends with fucking blood traitors"), their mother fighting with their father ("I can't believe that I let you talk me into not arguing with their pathetic excuse of a headmaster! Now, look at what your son turned into!"), their father fighting with Sirius ("Chug your friends Sirius, your mother's not joking when she says she's going to throw you out."), or the three of them fighting altogether. Regulus grew up listening to these sounds. It was his fucking lullabies on those days when he couldn't sleep, for Merlin's sake.

But now, Sirius was gone, and with him went away the bitter words and angry screams. He supposed he should be happy for that. Now mother can actually form a smile on her lips. A pathetic, forced smile, perhaps, but a smile nonetheless. His father has also calmed down, considering the creases on his brow has somewhat diminished.

And yet.

The silence was worse than the screaming and the threatening. Because the silence constantly reminded him that _he_ was now the heir to the Black fortune. Because the silence nagged him that he had to do better, else he be compared to his "rat of a brother". Because the silence meant Sirius wasn't there anymore.

Because contrary to belief, Regulus loved Sirius more than anyone. No matter how much he bullied Severus, no matter how much he tried to be different from the family, and no matter how much Sirius ignored him in school, Regulus would rather know that Sirius was in the room across the hall, then somewhere who wasn't _him_.

--

The first thing he noticed was the silence.

Regulus could never imagine the Leaky Cauldron as silent. But what other word was there to use? Both his parents absolutely refused to utter a word: his mother, in obvious disgrace, his father in obvious anxiety over how his mother would react. Although he tried not to show it, Regulus couldn't help prevent the butterflies in his stomach to stop fluttering. How would mother react indeed? She had, for years, convinced herself that she didn't really have a Gryffindor as a son. She had, for years, convinced herself that she only had one son, and that son would be a faithful servant of the Dark Lord. She had, for years, convinced herself that the room with the hideous muggle pin ups was locked up; hiding all evidence that another Black heir had stayed there.

And now, everything was turning in a 180 degree angle and smacking her with a board that said, "you have an older son, you idiot".

"Is there anything you would like to order?" Sirius asked curtly, poising his pen above a pad he carried.

Their mother's lips remained in that tight, thin line. Regulus, hoping that his words might cut the tension, spoke up. "How long have you been working here?" Their mother shot her son glare that would have pierced him, if it was an arrow.

"I don't know whom you are speaking to, Regulus," she said just as curtly, getting up from the table. "I have had it with the service in this low class pub. We have been seated for five minutes, without service. We are leaving." Just like that, she left for Diagon Alley, with both the mister and Tom catching up with her. Tom shot Sirius a glare, before mouthing apologies to their mother.

Regulus turned to Sirius. He wanted to tell his brother about the silence in the house, with only Kreacher for company. He wanted to tell Sirius that he missed hearing his voice, shouting at their parents. Most important of all, he wanted to tell Sirius how gorgeous he looked, when stripped from the aristocracy of his past.

The younger Black opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed it again, and smiled embarrassingly. Somewhere across the room, he heard his name being called. Regulus gave an apologetic look as he stood up.

"I'm staying with the Potters," Sirius said suddenly, voice low as though their parents would somehow hear them amidst the noise. Regulus marveled at the prospect that Sirius trusted him with an important secret.

And then, just as he turned to leave, Sirius said the most beautiful thing in the world: "I miss you too, you know."

--

The first thing he noticed was the silence.

It was his last year in Hogwarts, and he was celebrating this with his friends. They weren't like Luscius or Severus or Avery, but they did treat him as an equal, and not as someone who was younger and less mature. In fact, the three were long gone from Hogwarts, and that was what forced him to find these new friends.

What was supposed to be a happy ending to their first Hogsmeade trip for the year dissolved into something awkward. As though everything was balanced on a thin line of wire that could break at any minute.

After all, bumping into Sirius Black, Gryffindor, former heir to the Black family, black sheep of the clan, a famous member of the Order of the Phoenix, could shatter up a Slytherin's patience. Wands had been drawn, but none coming from Sirius. Regulus scowled at his companions and told them to keep their wands. If they were going to perform forbidden magic without permission, they may as well do it somewhere where they wouldn't be caught, not out here in the open.

He shooed them and said he'd catch up. The Slytherins complied, although reluctantly. They all carried suspicious expressions, possibly planning to go and tell his mother. Regulus will have to invent some story or other, then.

When he was sure the two brothers were alone, Regulus smiled. Sirius smiled back. Regulus smile grew wider.

"I've been counting. It's your last year," Sirius commented. Regulus nodded, asking where he was staying. Sirius pointed to a decent building.

"Moved out of the Potters when I graduated, felt guilty. I live on my own, although sometimes, James or Remus would miraculously remember me," he said, eyes brightening at the mention of his friends. Regulus laughed, not just at the joke, but form knowing that Sirius lived so close. So fucking close. And it was real! Not just some dream punctured by reports from the _Prophet_. There were so many times when he was close to crying because that blasted newspaper would report about some unknown from the Order dieing.

"You can visit me any time you're in Hogsmeade," Sirius added, eyes still smiling back at him. Regulus nodded, happy, for the first time in months.

Later that night, he could still hear Sirius telling him how nearly had an encounter with the Dark Lord.

--

The first thing he noticed was Sirius lips.

And how he wanted to touch it. Or kiss it. Or own it.

And how impossible it would be to do any of those.

Because this was the very first time Sirius had ever pulled him so close. Regulus was just as tall as Sirius now, and his brother's breathing fell on his cheek, the warm breath (air?) making him forget why he was pulled so close.

Because Sirius hated him now.

Because he chose to follow his parents wishes.

Because in Sirius' eyes, all those who supported the Dark Lord deserved to be treated with disrespect.

But most of all, it was because he himself carried the Mark.

"How could you?" Sirius hissed, voice dripping with malice. Regulus shivered and closed his eyes. When was the last time he heard his brother talk like this? His mind reeled back to when he was in his second year. He vaguely heard Sirius yelling at his parents before leaving the house. When Regulus snapped his eyes open, Sirius was pulling his arm out of the robe it was tucked in, and staring at the Mark with malice. Regulus pulled his hand away.

And that was the last time he heard Sirius talk to him.

--

Sometimes, at night, he would dream.

It was his day to be Marked. The room was teeming with Death Eaters. Beside him, a cauldron was bubbling with something that smelled like something decaying. The Dark Lord would always be holding a knife, ready to carve the Mark on his skin.

Right behind the Lord, where only Regulus could see, Sirius gave him the same look of malice as he had before.

And he never spoke.

--

END!

What a crappy ending. It's not even openly SBRB. Lol, sorry for the failed attempt. Hope you enjoyed it, though. Yes, I know it doesn't follow the song but I am usually like that.


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